


Snowflake Designs

by pandorabox82



Category: Criminal Minds, The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorabox82/pseuds/pandorabox82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda discovers a new designer that she absolutely has to know more about. Will her actions result in the largest bloodbath that Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week has ever seen? And will the BAU be able to save a ghost from their past before she is lost to them once more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Miranda hummed as she read Andrea's latest piece in the Mirror. She was surprised that the woman had chosen to write a fluff piece on fashion after seven years as a heavy hitting issues reporter. Now there was this piece about an up and coming designer who no one knew anything about. She kicked herself mentally as she read about the designer, and how little they actually knew about her. If it even was a her. The single accompanying sketch told Miranda everything she needed to know. She was going to hunt this designer down and feature them in a full spread in the next issue of _Runway_. That was all there was to it.

"Emily! Come!" she called out, pulling off her glasses and sucking on the arm as she stared at the sketch.

"Yes, Miranda?" the woman asked, trying to appear placid. Miranda, though, could read her like a book, and knew that she was wondering what was going on.

"I need you to do some digging for me. Keep Allison on the phones all day, and if she needs assistance, call in Hazel."

Emily weaved a little on her feet, obviously trying to figure out what Miranda was leading up to. "All right. But what sort of digging am I going to be doing, Miranda?"

"There's a new designer on the scene, and I want to know everything about them by the end of the workday today. Here, the name is Snowflake Designs, and no one knows who is behind the line. Your job is to suss that out for me. And if you don't…"

She let the veiled threat hang in the air, and Emily nodded as she gulped, turning on her heel and scurrying back out to her desk. As Miranda watched, she sent off a rapid fire message to Allison, and then bent over her keyboard, obviously wanting to get straight to work. A wry smile crossed her lips as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs atop her desk as she picked the newspaper up once more, staring at the dress. It was elegant, timeless, and Miranda had to have it. And there was one person who could get her close to that goal, the one person she felt disinclined to talk to ever again.

Wrinkling her nose a bit, she slid her legs off the desk and strode over to the door, closing it with a forceful click. She only hoped that she could keep a tight enough rein on her emotions so as not to raise her voice above a measured tone. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her personal cell phone and scrolled through her contact list.

There, towards the bottom, was her name, and her finger hovered above it, as if she were unable to just take that simple step and talk to the woman. "For God's sake, Miranda, it's just a simple phone call, at her place of work. It's not like you're going to proposition her."

The words seemed to steel her nerves and she pressed Andrea's work number. It rang three times before she heard a familiar, harried, voice. "Sachs speaking."

"Andrea. This is Miranda Priestly. I just saw the article that you wrote in the Mirror this morning, and I simply must pick your brain about it. How about we lunch at Smith & Wollensky? Say at eleven?"

There was a slight pause before Andrea spoke once more. "Miranda, they don't open until half past the hour."

"They don't for the plebeians, Andrea. How many times did I have to tell you that when you worked for me. When you're someone like me, you can get what you want. And I always get what I want."

There was a slight catch in her voice as she thought about the one thing that had gotten away from her, the person on the other end of the line. And she was waiting with almost bated breath for the answer. "Fine. If it will get you out of my hair sooner, I will lunch with you. See you in a few."

Andrea had hung up before Miranda could respond. Arching an eyebrow, she dialed the number for Smith & Wollensky, arranging for them to be ready for them at eleven. As soon as she hung up with them, she looked up into Emily's wide eyes. "And what can I do for you?" she quietly said, trying to make certain that her face was a mask of indifference.

"Why are you even interested in this designer, Miranda? You cannot possibly be interested in a designer who makes clothes for fat people! If this gets out, it will ruin the credibility of _Runway_. Is that really what you want?"

Emily's voice had risen to levels that only dogs could hear, and Miranda cut her off with a wave of her hand, indicating for her to sit. "Whatever are you going on about, Emily?" she asked, her voice dropping a few octaves in an attempt to calm the woman.

"I looked up this Snowflake Designs. It seems that her first line was not only for plus size women, it was garish and full of hideous color and patterns. I called the website up on my iPad so that you could see for yourself the travesty that is this, this, dreck."

Miranda fought not to roll her eyes at the woman's over the top histrionics and held out her hand expectantly. Emily slapped the tablet down onto her palm and then sank down in the seat, forgetting about her posture as she pouted. "They named their first line 'Penelope'," she murmured as she looked at the cacophony of color. There was something whimsical and gorgeous in the chaos, something that Miranda hadn't seen on any runway in ages. "This collection was designed with one person in mind, and if I were a gambling woman, I would bet that this woman is named Penelope."

A low groan erupted from Emily's throat before she could stop it. "That is practically impossible, you realize. There are millions of people named that!"

Miranda pursed her lips and tried not to shake her head. "Why don't you first try a nominal Google search? I'm certain that there are not millions upon millions of women named Penelope in the states. That's all."

Emily's entire boy slumped more before she stiffly stood up, giving Miranda a stiff nod before she clacked from the room. And it took everything in Miranda not to cackle with unmitigated glee when her first assistant growled at Allison before furiously tapping away on her keyboard. "Fine, it's twenty thousand! I will be looking for the proverbial needle for ages!" she loudly said moments later, and still, Miranda kept herself under control, not wanting to give away how much pleasure this little exercise was giving her.

Sighing, she picked up the tablet once more and scrolled through the collection. There was something pricking at the back of her mind the longer she gazed at the models, and then it hit her. They were all wearing cat's eye glasses, another little quirk of this collection. And it made her wonder if the muse in question would also be wearing glasses. "Emily," she smoothly called out, "something that might help your search. The Penelope in question will be wearing glasses, and most likely they will be in the same style as the models."

This just made Emily groan once more and Miranda steepled her fingers together, waiting for the lunch ahead of her.


	2. Chapter 2

At fifteen minutes to eleven, Miranda sailed into Smith & Wollensky, a tiny smirk gracing her face as she was ushered back to her usual, private, booth to await Andrea. "Can I get you anything, Miranda?" the waitress asked, and she looked up at the woman.

"Scotch, neat. And a glass of water. No lemon. That's all." She dismissed the woman with a hand wave and set aside the menu, knowing exactly what she would be having.

"I should have known that you would be here already. You never could stand being the last to arrive." Miranda looked up into Andrea's smiling face and fought not to smile in return. "Really, did you have to make up some flimsy excuse to say that you missed me?"

As she slid into the other side of the booth, Miranda tried not to look at her hands. While she hadn't heard anything about the woman getting married in the years they were apart, there was still the possibility that she had kept it private. "If I missed you, I would never let it show. To anyone."

"Somehow, I had a feeling you'd say that," Andrea murmured as the waitress set down two glasses of water and Miranda's scotch. She went to pick up the highball, only to see Andrea tighten her lips just a little. "I'd like an unsweetened iced tea, hold the lemon. And the broiled salmon. Miranda will have the porterhouse steak, rare. That's all."

Miranda smirked approvingly before sipping at her scotch. "You seem to have retained a few of the things I taught you. How has your job been treating you?"

"Well. I've been able to do some of the things that I always wanted to do in my career. Until this morning."

"Ah yes, our mysterious mutual designer. Whyever did your editor want you to write that piece of fluff? I've come to expect more from your writing than that."

Andrea's eyes grew large as she sipped at the water in front of her. Finally, she swallowed and scrunched her lips up a little as she shrugged. "Honestly? I have no idea. She just placed this folder on my desk and told me to run with it. I had a difficult time coming up with enough words to fill to column space, what with the information I was given."

"When is her show?"

"She, and I think the designer is a she, based on all my research, scored one of the plum spots. She's showing right before Michael Kors Fall show."

Their food arrived, as if the chef had known exactly what they would be ordering before she had even stepped foot inside the building, and Miranda smiled at the attention to detail. She went to take another sip of scotch, and Andrea frowned a little once more. "Is there a problem?"

"It's not you, it's me. Can we leave it at that?"

Miranda nodded as she set aside her glass, a small wave of understanding sweeping over her brain. "So, do you have any idea what her new line will be called?"

"The sketch that was with the folder was entitled Emily. So, another feminine name. Why do you even want to know?"

It seemed that Andrea could still cut to the heart of the matter, and Miranda took a bite of her steak to give herself some time to think. "I don't like being kept in the dark, and I want to give this designer the recognition they deserve. The first line was chaotically gorgeous, even if it was exclusively for plus size women. It was innovative, creative, and I simply must have her in _Runway_. And if I have to work with you to do that, then so be it. I think that we can both be adults about this."

Andrea smiled at her as she shook her head. "Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"All right, I'll team up with you, but only because I want to know more about whom the designer is as well." There was a faint blush in Andrea's cheeks, and she wondered what brought that about. "So, now that we have that squared away, how have you been?"

Miranda was a little taken aback by the casual slip into small talk, something she didn't reall" There was a faint blush in Andrea's cheeks, and she wondered what brought that about. "So, now that we have that squared away, how have you been?"

Miranda was a little taken aback by the casual slip into small talk, something she didn't really do, but knew that she would have to play by Andrea's rules if she wanted the flow of information to continue. "Life has treated me well in the past eight years. I have embraced being single and find myself happier for it. And you?"

It took a few beats for Andrea to catch up to her, and Miranda used the time to eat another bite of her meal, never taking her eyes off the younger woman. "I am happily single at the moment, also. Nate and I gave our relationship another spin on the merry-go-round, but even long distance was too close for the hurt between us. If my soulmate is out there, I just have to trust that they'll be revealed to me at the right time."

She should have known that Andrea would have a romantic's heart, and she felt her smile soften a little at the notion. "I think mine died before I found them. It's better this way," she whispered, picking up her water and taking a long drink. "So, would you like to head back to _Runway_ with me and help Emily in the gathering of information, or would you like to meet when she brings the Book by?"

"Who said we'd be working together?"

Miranda cocked her head to one side, arching her eyebrow a little. "Really, Andrea, have you forgotten that I always get what I want, when I want it? Fashion week is in less than a fortnight, and I want to have her in the pages of October's issue. If that is to happen, we need to move quickly and together. Two heads will be much better than one in that regards."

A soft bark of laughter escaped Andrea's throat as she grinned widely. "That's the Miranda I remember. All right, so in fourteen days, we have to move mountains and find the proverbial needle in a hay stack."

She nodded and dared to meet Andrea's eyes. There was something soft and open there, something that she hadn't seen directed at her in a very long time, and she could feel her own blush stain her cheeks as she looked back down at her food, deciding to focus on that. "So, which do you prefer? Coming now or later?"

Andrea giggled a little at her statement, and Miranda gasped at what she had said. "Well, I always prefer coming as soon as possible, but in this case, I think I'll hold off until later. Do you still have the Book delivered at nine?"

"Or thereabouts. So, I'll see you at the townhouse around…?"

"Quarter to. That will give me some time to get things pulled together. Do you want me to bring by dessert?"

"Certainly. You still remember those pastries I adore?" Andrea nodded. "Good, then I'll expect to see them with you at quarter to nine tonight." She pulled out her credit card and settled the bill while Andrea finished eating. "Have a good afternoon," she murmured as she slipped out of the booth. Somehow, she knew that it was going to be a very long day.


	3. Chapter 3

Miranda actually found herself tapping her foot anxiously as she awaited Andrea's arrival. Emily had looked quite relieved when she had returned from their lunch and not bitten her head off, but she had just shrugged that off as she thrust her coat and purse at the new assistant before stalking into her office and starting to take notes on the myriad other things that demanded her attention for the day.

Still, she found her attention divided for the rest of the afternoon, and even when she was critiquing a collection, her heart wasn't really with it. She could tell by the designer's reactions that she had also noticed the gentler words, and Miranda made certain to fix an icy stare on her before standing and heading towards the door. "This was an admirable first effort, but I'm certain that you can do much better for when I come see this again in a week. Emily, make a note."

As she did so, the designer gulped and nodded, suddenly realizing that she hadn't made it through her showing as unscathed as she had thought. A small smirk danced around her lips as she made her way down to the street level. "I'll be working from home for the rest of the day, Emily. While you're waiting for the book tonight, you can do a little more research into Snowflake Designs."

Emily's shoulders slumped as she gave a half-hearted nod. "I don't know exactly what you're expecting me to find with so little data to go on, but I will do my best."

"That's what I expect of you," she replied as she slid her sunglasses onto her face and climbed into her car. Her driver gave her a small nod before pulling into traffic, and Miranda settled back into the seat as they began the slow crawl uptown during rush hour. Pulling out her PDA, she began to look through what was on her agenda for the next day, making small notes as to what she had to start with in the morning, down to what she would have to do before she went home in the evening. It seemed like she'd have a working lunch, as there was a conference call with Carolina Herrera to talk about her fall collection.

Miranda smiled a little as she turned her face to look out the window. Ever since the chance sighting of Andrea, she had found herself watching the streets. A small part of her brain told her that she was trying to keep her finger on the pulse of the city, knowing that street fashion was the end result of what she helped to mold in the offices of _Runway_. A small voice in the back of her mind told her, though, that she was deluding herself. It was easy to ignore that voice, unless she found herself to be too tired.

When she arrived at her townhouse, she saw that the lights were on in the sitting room, and she knew that the twins were home. Climbing out of the car, she told the driver to pick her up an hour earlier than normal, and he nodded before wishing her a good night.

Heading inside, she slipped off her coat and hung it up in the closet before slipping off her heels and picking them up, carrying everything into the sitting room. Cassidy was curled up in one of the leather back chairs, her nose buried in a book, and Miranda made her way over to her, caressing her hair as she glanced at the book. "Is that for school?"

Cassidy glanced up at her, shaking her head a little before turning her focus back to the book. "Andy made a list of books for me that would enrich my high school education. It's taken my forever to get through them, but each has been really good. _Emma_ might just be my favorite so far."

"I preferred _Mansfield Park_ , but I suppose that I can't expect you to be a perfect little clone of me." Cassidy laughed as she shook her head, turning the page as Miranda sank down onto the sofa and picked up the _New York Times_. After she had read through the news of the day, she began to do the crossword puzzle, needing something to keep her mind occupied while she waited for Andrea to arrive.

"Are you going to eat with us?" Caroline asked pointedly, and she looked up from her puzzle, giving her other daughter a small nod as she set the paper away and rose to her feet. She once more found her thoughts distracted as she listened to her children go on about their day and everything that had filled it. "Are you coming to our concert tomorrow?"

Miranda frowned a little as she pulled out her PDA, looking at her schedule. There was no mention of a concert on there, and she glanced up at Caroline, trying not to let on that this was a surprise. "What time was it again?"

"Seven. Cassidy has a solo, too."

She tapped away at the keyboard, mentally rearranging her day so that it could fit this into the schedule. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." She smiled at her children before spearing a bite of salad. The rest of the meal passed quickly, and then the twins were heading upstairs to finish their homework while she went up to her personal study and scanned the shelves for something to read.

After choosing a book, she settled down to wait. It was a few hours later when she heard a bit of a commotion in the downstairs hall. Setting the book aside, she stepped out to the staircase and looked down. Emily and Andrea were having a heated discussion, and Miranda knew that she had to defuse things before they got too out of control.

Both heads shot up to look at her, and Andrea blushed guiltily as she smiled. Raising an eyebrow, she cocked one finger at them, summoning them upstairs. Emily was the first to make a move, the book clutched to her chest, and Miranda had to turn her back quickly to cover the roll of her eyes.

"I couldn't find anything else out about Snowflake Designs, Miranda," Emily stammered out as she handed over the book, and took a seat on the edge of the sofa. "Please, tell me that you found something else that could help the search."

Andrea made her way over to the chair that Miranda usually sat in, and as she took a seat, Miranda saw the pleased smile that spread across her lips which let her know that Andrea may have indeed made some progress towards finding the designer. "When I feel comfortable with you switching focus in the search, I will let you know."

As she settled into the chair opposite Andrea, Miranda made it clear that that would be the last thing she said to Emily that evening, and she watched as the young woman soundlessly sighed as she got to her feet and looked between Andrea and Miranda. It was clear that she was biting back something, and Miranda quirked her eyebrow up, daring her to speak. Emily pursed her lips and gave her a tiny nod before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.

"That was awkward."

"She's still trying to impress so desperately. Now, why don't you start sharing what you've managed to uncover." She smiled, finding herself strangely comfortable in the presence of the younger woman.


End file.
